doing
and I cough and cough.
Moe starts laughing.
What?!
I say.
I’ve never smoked before!
Keep it that way
, she says,
and grabs it out of my hand, throws it out the window,
and we drive on,
leaving it there to burn.
Lack of Personal Grooming
When we get to Moe’s,
Marc is waiting out front
and he’s pissed.
What the fuck, Moe?
You just swore
, Moe giggles.
Sorry about this
, I say to him,
nervously tucking my hair behind an ear.
Why don’t I have any lip gloss on?
Or mascara?
Why am I wearing pajamas with cartoon drawings
of pieces of cherry pie on them?
Why am I not wearing a bra,
but I am wearing a blob of Proactiv
on the zit on my forehead?
I furiously try to rub it off,
realizing I have absolutely no idea
what my breath smells like and
he looks at me and smiles.
Thanks for picking her up
.
I smile back, as does my pimple,
which is so big it probably has a mouth of its own.
You two are precious
, Moe slurs as she climbs out of the car.
I follow after her with one of her boots,
wishing I could bonk her over the head with it.
A Gentleman and a Lady
I love you, Elodie
, Moe says
as Marc and I tuck her into bed.
It makes me want to hit her a little less hard.
We tiptoe down the hall, trying to be extra quiet
so the parrot won’t wake up.
Marc walks me out to the car and says,
Nice pj’s
.
I look down and see a huge spaghetti sauce stain
on one of my pieces of cherry pie.
Why does every encounter
with the one person I want to impress
seem to involve humiliation?
But then he leans forward to open the door
and puts me inside like I am precious cargo.
You’re cute at four in the morning
, he says,
and I have no idea what to say back
other than
You too
and I start to buckle my seat belt,
but he grabs my hand and holds it for a second
and I look up into his endless brown eyes
and then he steps back, letting me go.
I back out of the driveway,
my pimple and I only hitting one pothole as we go.
He’s still watching so I give an idiotic little salute
and keep driving
in my cherry-pie pajamas
with a stupid smile on my face
still feeling his hand in my hand
all the way home
and into my driveway
and into the house
and down the hall
and into bed
where I lie
until the sun comes up
and the alarm goes off
and I’m still thinking
about the night before.
APRIL 28
I brought Elodie a bunch of chocolate to SA as a thank-you for saving my life. When Shawn asked what it was for, we both just smiled and said we were doing an Identification Exercise, which made her practically pee with excitement.
After class we went to Tabitha’s house, which was HUGE and glass, with views of the valley. There was no one home. It was kind of like a museum where you thought a security guard might rush over and grab you if you touched anything. Tabitha showed us a bunch of blogs she likes. Some were just people’s thoughts about music or movies they like or their Tumblrs and she showed us Rookie, the one made by the girl our age who’s all into finding cool old stuff in your mom’s closet that could be used for new fashion looks and whatnot.
As we were leaving, Elodie told us it was her birthday tomorrow, which is so weird because everyone loves to brag about their birthday, but leave it to Elodie to wait and say something when it’s too late to do anything about it. Her dad got her gift certificates to Nordstrom and she said she wants to take us shopping and we all had a good laugh over it. I have an idea of the perfect gift for her, but for now Tabitha and I did a funny pre-birthday dance set to the tune of Willow Smith’s “Whip My Hair.” Elodie was lying on the floor laughing so hard she farted, so I think it was a successful present.
When I got home I asked Aunt B if I could borrow some of her clothes and she called me a “smartass.” I tried to explain to her that I wasn’t joking, I was trying to become more fashionable, but she didn’t believe me. Proving once
and I cough and cough.
Moe starts laughing.
What?!
I say.
I’ve never smoked before!
Keep it that way
, she says,
and grabs it out of my hand, throws it out the window,
and we drive on,
leaving it there to burn.
Lack of Personal Grooming
When we get to Moe’s,
Marc is waiting out front
and he’s pissed.
What the fuck, Moe?
You just swore
, Moe giggles.
Sorry about this
, I say to him,
nervously tucking my hair behind an ear.
Why don’t I have any lip gloss on?
Or mascara?
Why am I wearing pajamas with cartoon drawings
of pieces of cherry pie on them?
Why am I not wearing a bra,
but I am wearing a blob of Proactiv
on the zit on my forehead?
I furiously try to rub it off,
realizing I have absolutely no idea
what my breath smells like and
he looks at me and smiles.
Thanks for picking her up
.
I smile back, as does my pimple,
which is so big it probably has a mouth of its own.
You two are precious
, Moe slurs as she climbs out of the car.
I follow after her with one of her boots,
wishing I could bonk her over the head with it.
A Gentleman and a Lady
I love you, Elodie
, Moe says
as Marc and I tuck her into bed.
It makes me want to hit her a little less hard.
We tiptoe down the hall, trying to be extra quiet
so the parrot won’t wake up.
Marc walks me out to the car and says,
Nice pj’s
.
I look down and see a huge spaghetti sauce stain
on one of my pieces of cherry pie.
Why does every encounter
with the one person I want to impress
seem to involve humiliation?
But then he leans forward to open the door
and puts me inside like I am precious cargo.
You’re cute at four in the morning
, he says,
and I have no idea what to say back
other than
You too
and I start to buckle my seat belt,
but he grabs my hand and holds it for a second
and I look up into his endless brown eyes
and then he steps back, letting me go.
I back out of the driveway,
my pimple and I only hitting one pothole as we go.
He’s still watching so I give an idiotic little salute
and keep driving
in my cherry-pie pajamas
with a stupid smile on my face
still feeling his hand in my hand
all the way home
and into my driveway
and into the house
and down the hall
and into bed
where I lie
until the sun comes up
and the alarm goes off
and I’m still thinking
about the night before.
APRIL 28
I brought Elodie a bunch of chocolate to SA as a thank-you for saving my life. When Shawn asked what it was for, we both just smiled and said we were doing an Identification Exercise, which made her practically pee with excitement.
After class we went to Tabitha’s house, which was HUGE and glass, with views of the valley. There was no one home. It was kind of like a museum where you thought a security guard might rush over and grab you if you touched anything. Tabitha showed us a bunch of blogs she likes. Some were just people’s thoughts about music or movies they like or their Tumblrs and she showed us Rookie, the one made by the girl our age who’s all into finding cool old stuff in your mom’s closet that could be used for new fashion looks and whatnot.
As we were leaving, Elodie told us it was her birthday tomorrow, which is so weird because everyone loves to brag about their birthday, but leave it to Elodie to wait and say something when it’s too late to do anything about it. Her dad got her gift certificates to Nordstrom and she said she wants to take us shopping and we all had a good laugh over it. I have an idea of the perfect gift for her, but for now Tabitha and I did a funny pre-birthday dance set to the tune of Willow Smith’s “Whip My Hair.” Elodie was lying on the floor laughing so hard she farted, so I think it was a successful present.
When I got home I asked Aunt B if I could borrow some of her clothes and she called me a “smartass.” I tried to explain to her that I wasn’t joking, I was trying to become more fashionable, but she didn’t believe me. Proving once
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